


all the things we've dreamed of

by RedemptionByFire (steelneena)



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: F/M, Fluff, emerson essays, with a really really mild side of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 15:26:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11038983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelneena/pseuds/RedemptionByFire
Summary: Dale Cooper made a promise to Audrey Horne before he left Twin Peaks. When he keeps that promise, a whole new future presents itself and Dale finds that its what he's been looking for all along.





	all the things we've dreamed of

**Author's Note:**

  * For [petit_moineau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petit_moineau/gifts).



> best read while listening to the following: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZzHgcangIU
> 
> from the following prompt: Cooper is Audrey's date to a college formal - freeform with Audrey following a law career
> 
> unbeta'd

Dale had been so unsure about the whole thing. He had promised, the last time that he saw Audrey, that he would let her know if he was ever back in the area. It had been over a year since he’d left Twin Peaks, in more or less okay shape, considering everything that had happened to him… He shivered to think on the things that had happened after he left the Black Lodge. They still kept him up at night, and only regular visits to the Bureau psychologist kept him in the field. As much as he had fallen in love with the town, it had been nothing but a curse on Dale, as Albert was so fond of reminding him. So he’d stayed away from the Northwest, first recovering with a temporary desk job and then moving back into the field, where, adrenaline pumping, the heady, invigorating feeling of chasing down a perp kept Dale from losing his mind completely. 

Only two months ago had he gotten over his mirror hang up, and now, he was in the Northwest again. And he had promised her that he’d call. Yes, Dale had made his fair share of promises to Audrey, and he did intend to keep at least that one. So he’d followed through and called up the Great Northern (the number for which he still knew by heart) and left a message with Louie the concierge, asking her that Audrey be notified that he was in the area, and leaving his contact information. 

In truth, Dale had really missed Audrey. She’d been something of a constant during his stay there, and his return out east had abruptly put an end to their …relationship. After the nightmare at Glastonbury Grove and the chaos and terror that had ensued, he wasn’t sure she would even want to see him again, but Audrey had visited him in hospital after, sitting by his bedside with a book of Emerson’s essays reading to him when she thought he was asleep. She was always finding ways to surprise him, and when she’d read from the sixth essay,  _ Friendship _ , Dale half wondered if she suspected that he was really awake. 

_ “The effect of the indulgence of this human affection is a certain cordial exhilaration. In poetry, and in common speech, the emotions of benevolence and complacency which are felt towards others are likened to the material effects of fire; so swift, or much more swift, more active, more cheering, are these fine inward irradiations. From the highest degree of passionate love, to the lowest degree of good-will, they make the sweetness of life…” _

Despite how they’d drifted somewhat apart after things with Laura Palmer were wrapped up, despite the awful things he’d done – no, had been done by…. _ with _ his body…Despite those awful things, Audrey had never once flinched away from him, never once given up on him. Though he’d discouraged her affections towards him, Audrey was a hurricane. Audrey was a force of nature. Audrey wasn’t to be deterred or denied. He’d happily accepted her friendship that night, when he’d arrived back at his room to find her indecent beneath his covers, though they’d ended it both fully dressed over shakes and fries. He’d accepted her friendship and she had taken what she could get. Friendship, if that was all there was to be between them, was something that Audrey didn’t take lightly. 

_ “What is so pleasant as these jets of affection which make a young world for me again? What so delicious as a just and firm encounter of two, in a thought, in a feeling? How beautiful, on their approach to this beating heart, the steps and forms of the gifted and the true! The moment we indulge our affections, the earth is metamorphosed; there is no winter, and no night; all tragedies, all ennuis, vanish, — all duties even; nothing fills the proceeding eternity but the forms all radiant of beloved persons. Let the soul be assured that somewhere in the universe it should rejoin its friend, and it would be content and cheerful alone for a thousand years...” _

But Audrey’s definition of friendship had always been fluid, and even though she’d had some manner of dalliance with the dashingly handsome John Justice Wheeler, as she sat by his bedside reading Emerson’s passionate words in that dreamy tone of hers, Dale knew that if there was one person in the world who would always stand by him, it would be Audrey Horne. The way she caressed the vowels of the phrase “beloved persons” had been meant especially for him. Secretly in that moment, Dale had been so immensely moved by her simple devotion that he’d felt his eyes burn with tears. 

The months following his ordeal had been a low point. It wasn’t the first and was undoubtedly not the last, but it had been an exceptionally low one, leaving Dale feeling worthless on even the best days. Gradually, he’d recovered from it all, though, he suspected, he’d be recovering from what had happened in his final days in Twin Peaks for the rest of his life. Thoughts of Audrey had helped somewhat. Knowing that she was somewhere in the world, growing to full bloom, terrorizing professors and fellow students with her undeterrable nature, her immovable, unalterable determination to succeed, to achieve her goals, whatever they might have been made him smile on even the darkest of days. In a rare moment of desperation, when Dale felt particularly alone, the image of her sharply arched brow and take-no-prisoners expression bolstered his confidence and self-esteem. 

He'd been nervous, waiting for her to reach out to him after he placed the call. He’d never truly intended to return to the West Coast, which meant that he’d technically never be breaking his promise to her, since he’d never be in the area at all, but once it became inevitable, Dale couldn’t shake the memory of her asking him. 

_ “Can you make me a promise, Agent Cooper?” _ She had asked him, looking down at first, beneath long, dark lashes. They’d fluttered prettily against the flush-pink skin of her cheek.  _ “If you’re ever back out here, on the West Coast, I mean…”  _ He recalled the moment exactly when she’d finally looked up and locked their gazes.  _ “Let me know?” _

_ “I promise, Audrey,”  _

She’d smiled wide, girlish, all her sultry glances lost to teenage adoration. She  _ admired _ him, she’d said. His heart ached at her words. 

It had all come rushing back when he got the letter. He’d stopped at the front desk of the hotel he was staying at to ask if any calls had come in for him while he’d been gone, but instead of a phone message, there was the letter. 

It was in a plain white envelope, but it had a rose scent, though very subtle. Inside was a letter written in her impeccable, curling script:

_ Dear Agent Cooper,  _

_ I’m currently enrolled at UW. There is a soirée this weekend for the students enrolled in the Law programme. If you’re able to make it, I hope you would come as my escort. It is a formal dinner and I would love to see you again. It is on Saturday, at 6:30 until 10:00. _

_ If you are unable because of your work with the Bureau, I understand.  _

_ All the best,  _

_ Audrey Horne _

She hadn’t included a phone number, so he simply composed a letter in return on the spot and sent it out through the Hotel’s service. He hadn’t hesitated in responding positively. It was obvious in her wording that she wanted him there, but was unsure whether or not he would accept, for reasons of propriety. It was in every sharply dotted ‘i’, and in the slant of every ‘t’. The romantic nature of her longhand remained, calling out to him with desperate longing. 

_ “I confess to an extreme tenderness of nature on this point. It is almost dangerous to me to "crush the sweet poison of misused wine" of the affections. A new person is to me a great event, and hinders me from sleep. I have often had fine fancies about persons which have given me delicious hours; but the joy ends in the day; it yields no fruit. Thought is not born of it; my action is very little modified. I must feel pride in my friend's accomplishments as if they were mine, — and a property in his virtues. I feel as warmly when he is praised, as the lover when he hears applause of his engaged maiden. We over-estimate the conscience of our friend. His goodness seems better than our goodness, his nature finer, his temptations less. Every thing that is his, — his name, his form, his dress, books, and instruments, — fancy enhances. Our own thought sounds new and larger from his mouth…” _

Every word of Emerson’s fell from her mouth like the petal of a rose held out to him in longing. Friendship, yes, was the foundation upon which lasting relationships were built. His own words had felt thrown in his face. If this, what Emerson described, was friendship, then Audrey was his deepest, truest friend and admirer. The letter was the same. She remained firm in her regard for him. Without so much as an ‘I love you’, Audrey always managed to make her feelings clear. 

The three days to the weekend passed quickly and soon he was dressing, his suit having been pressed earlier that day, and attempting to determine which tie he ought to wear, or if it should be a bowtie instead.

He decided on a silver tie; it would go with almost anything she wore, but he was still…nervous? The realization shook him up slightly. Nervous to see her again? Nervous to be appearing as her escort? He didn’t know. Dale shook his head, attempting to clear it before the drive. He stopped only once along the way, at a florists, and then felt like a fool when he stood deliberating over buying a her a corsage or not before the owner walked over to him with a knowing look. 

“What’s the event?” The elderly gentleman asked. 

“I’m escorting a…friend to a formal event. I haven’t seen her in a year,” He volunteered the extra information before he even realized he was speaking. 

“Skip the corsage, son,” The man said. “Give her a rose instead,” He held out a long stemmed rose, a deep shade of red. 

Dale, against his wishes, coloured. “I’m not sure red is really appropriate,”

“Perhaps pink, then?” The florist held out another, and Dale felt the flush on his cheeks recede. “Yes. Yes, thank you,” 

“I still think you ought to go with the red, you know,” There was a twinkle in the man’s eye as he rung up the price on the pink rose. 

“It’s better not to,”

“Whatever you say, son,” 

Dale had never received a response from Audrey, so when he made it to campus, he’d stopped at the first corner where he saw a person who was undoubtedly a student and asked after the location. They directed him towards Kane Hall which was situated around the main plaza, where he saw plenty of people in similar dress milling around. He parked and headed in the same general direction. Once he’d entered, Dale made his way towards a table where there appeared to be some sort of staff.

“Excuse me, but, do I need to check in?”

“Name?” The woman asked, only feigning interest. 

“Dale Cooper,” He replied, looking around as she scanned her list. 

“Right. You’re at table eleven. You’ll find your name card there,”

“Thank you,” He left the entry way for the hall. There were at least twenty five tables, a live band, and a dance floor. There was a stage out as well, with several chairs and a podium set up. Dale strolled the room looking absently for table eleven as he took in the richness of his surroundings. When Audrey said soirée, he’d merely assumed she was speaking fancifully, but instead, he saw, it was exactly as she’d said. Despite being dressed appropriately, he felt out of place walking about alone, especially carrying the rose. Table eleven was nearer the wall on the far left of the hall, and contained at that point only two other people who didn’t acknowledge him as he sat, they were so engrossed in their conversation. 

Ignoring them, Dale, turned his attention to the table. He’d sat in the spot with where his name card had been placed, but hadn’t looked to see if the one next to him was – Audrey’s. Her name was written there, perfectly inconspicuous, but to Dale it felt like the first punch of reality to his gut. He lay the rose just ahead of the fanned napkin and small plate, then leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and letting his hands rest on his knee. 

The band hadn’t been playing when he had entered the room, but they’d begun some moments before. The music was jazzy, which he had both anticipated and desired. Contenting himself with watching them perform, he didn’t even notice when a hand was stuck out in front of his face. 

“ -am Michael Gibson,”

Dale startled from his reverie. “Sorry! What did you-?”

“I’m Michael Gibson, nice to meet you,” The young man was still holding out his hand, so Dale reached to shake. 

“Dale Cooper. Pleasure,” He smiled and they both sat. 

“I haven’t seen you around before. I mean, it’s a big campus but I know most of the people here tonight,” Michael was obviously leading him, attempting not to actually ask a question at all. Dale acquiesced, smiling with as much charm as his nerves allowed him. 

“I’m a guest of Audrey Horne’s,” He said. The sound of her name in his own voice was strange to say the least. He’d not spoken it since leaving the year prior. “I was in the area and she asked if I’d come,” 

Michael’s face lit up; Audrey’s influence on a person was unmistakable. “Oh! Well! If you’re a friend of Audrey’s, then you’ll do just fine here. Not that you wouldn’t do fine otherwise, I just-“

“Michael, it’s fine. I understand perfectly,” He stopped the younger man before he could mangle the sentence further. “To be perfectly honest, though, I do feel a bit like a fish out of water. I’m experienced with the law, certainly, but not with  _ Law _ ,”

Michael was playing with the fanned napkin situated in his own place. “What are you studying?” The student asked enthusiastically. 

Dale chuckled, and smiled, though not unkindly. “I’m long out of college, Michael. Actually, I’m –“

“Dale’s an FBI Agent, Michael, so you’d better watch out,”

Her voice made his heart soar. Dale was tempted to turn in his seat, he was so anxious. Schooling himself from standing so immediately that the chair would have certainly fallen over, Dale paced himself. Turning to face her felt like an eternity, but when he finally saw her, it was as if in a vision. Her eyes sparkled brightly, and her raven tresses were styled to perfection. Diamond earrings peaked from behind loose strands. Her smile remained as coy as ever; Dale could see the secret she kept at the corner of her mouth that created just a slight up-twitch, the one that took his breath away. 

“Hello Special Agent,” She demurred. 

“Audrey Horne,” He replied, internally berating himself for the gentle way it fell from his lips. Too gentle. She blinked slowly, and her smile widened. She’d caught it, the particular tone he’d used. “You look stunning Audrey,” And she did. The black satin dress caught and held the curvature of her form, and the teardrop diamond that hung between her breasts caught the light expertly. 

“And you’re handsome as always,” Suddenly she looked away, shy, and Dale felt better immediately until he caught the angle of her gaze. “Oh, Agent Cooper!” She exclaimed as she caught sight of the rose. “Thank you,”

“You’re very welcome, Audrey,” 

Behind them, Michael cleared his throat. 

“Oh, hello Michael,” Audrey greeted the young man again, despite already having done so. Dale pulled out the chair for her to sit. “Agent Cooper, I hope that it wasn’t too much to ask, you’re coming here I mean,”. 

He was seated now as well, and on the receiving end of her intense gaze. 

“I’m honored that you invited me, Audrey. I’m glad to be here for you,” He replied honestly.  Michael, he noted, and given up on them and was engaged in a conversation with the other couple at the table. “You weren’t kidding when you called this a soirée,” He said. Audrey looked at him hard, and he furrowed his brow in response. “What is it?”

“Small talk doesn’t become you, Agent Cooper,”

“Dale,” It was an impulse, but he couldn’t help it. “I think, considering, you ought to call me Dale,”

“Dale,” She tested his name on her lips, rubbing a pink petal of the rose thoughtfully between her fingers. He suppressed a shudder. “Alright, Dale. Small talk doesn’t become you,”

“You’re right. It doesn’t. We know each other better than that, don’t we?”

Audrey breathed in sharply. It was only half a moment, but Dale caught it all the same. Her affections hadn’t waned at all. In fact, he thought, they had grown.

“I’ve missed you,” She was forthright with him, always had been, and Dale had always appreciated her tendency to be candid. So much of her life had been built on lies that it only made sense for her to be blunt with the truth. The moment hung, waiting for him to catch up to it. Impulsive again, Dale spoke.

“I’ve thought about you often. I know…I know that the way I left things in Twin Peaks was, well, less than – “

“It wasn’t your fault,” There was an almost pleading tone to her voice and she reached out a hand, resting it on top of his own. “None of it was your fault. We… _ Twin Peaks _ , that is, well, we weren’t a perfect little town before you got there, and nothing was really worse after you came. It just wasn’t hidden anymore. We had to deal with it, and at your expense,” Heat blossomed across her cheeks in shame. “We’re at fault, not you. Never you, Dale,”

“I’ve thought about you often,” Dale continued. “Anytime I was unsure, conflicted, I was reminded of you. You never gave up Audrey. You never lost your faith in me, and I’ve relied on that faith even in your absence. I’ve needed it, every day since I left. You’ve made me a stronger person, Audrey,”

As he concluded, Dale noticed that Audrey was crying, but he kept going, the feeling of release leaving him free of his fears for the first time in a long time. “I heard you, that day, at the hospital. Reading me Emerson. I never forgot.  _ Our friendships hurry to short and poor conclusions, because we have made them a texture of wine and dreams, instead of the tough fibre of the human heart, _ ”

Audrey opened her mouth to speak, but in that moment the announcer tapped on his microphone and launched into the welcome speech. Audrey looked disappointed, and Dale felt a space grow between them uncomfortably. 

Nervous, he smiled at her just a little. She smiled back but then focused on the announcer and he did the same. 

“Welcome to the annual ball for the Law and -” The speech went on briefly before the dinner was announced, and by the time that they were back in their seats, plates full from the buffet, the moment was lost. Clearly, Audrey was no longer going to continue on whatever train of thought she’d left off on. 

“To drink, Sir?” One of the waitstaff asked him. 

“Coffee. Black. Regular. Thank you,” He ordered succinctly. Out of the corner of his eye, Dale noticed Audrey cover her mouth to hide a smile. 

“So, I have to admit I’m a little surprised,” He began as he speared a carrot with his fork.

“About what?” She began to delicately cut her meat into squares and Dale found himself utterly preoccupied by the movement of her hands. “Dale?”

“Law, I mean,” he recovered his senses. “I guess I wasn't sure what you'd do but law just wasn't something I anticipated,” 

“Oh. Well,” Audrey seemed at a loss. “I guess i just found that it suited my interests,” She looked away from him as she spoke. “I do enjoy it,”

He swallowed a bite of potato. “I’m glad. Tell me about this dinner. What’s it for, actually?” 

Audrey took a drink briefly from the crystal glass, red painted nails striking against its translucent surface. “Award ceremony for some of the seniors who participated in this special internship. We were all invited as a courtesy,”

“That’s nice. I haven’t been to something like this in a long time,” He mused, glancing out across the crowd. “I’m glad you invited me,”

“I’m glad you came,” 

They ate a bit in silence, not uncomfortable, though slightly tense when another party goer came up to their table. 

“Audrey! Hello! I’m glad you came,” The woman said. She smiled brightly before seating herself in the empty spot on the other side of Audrey. “How are you?”

“I’m great, thank you, Claire,” 

Claire was a willowy blonde woman, older, Dale speculated, than Audrey by several years. She situated herself in the chair for a moment. “I was getting bored at my table, you know. Hank and Martin couldn’t stop talking about football. Would you mind if I joined you for a bit?” Audrey nodded her acceptance and Claire smiled widely again before spotting Dale. “Oh! Hello!” She looked overtly at Audrey and then back again with interest at Dale. “Who might you be?”

Dale opened his mouth to speak but Audrey beat him to it. “This is Dale Cooper. He’s here on my invitation,”

Intrigue showing on her face Claire propped her elbows on the table and leaned towards him. “A pleasure to meet you,” She said, sultry. Audrey, Dale noticed, stiffened. 

“Likewise,” He offered politely, hyper aware of Audrey’s gaze on him. “Audrey, how do you two know each other?”

“Claire is my residence director, and a law student as well,” She replied. Claire started talking after that, while Dale and Audrey finished eating, occasionally interjecting something here or there as they were able. Dale could tell that Claire wasn’t unkind, or at least didn’t mean to be, but Audrey’s entire demeanour was altered since her residence director had taken up residence at their table.  He turned to Audrey in one of the brief lulls between Claire’s words. 

“Can I bring you back a dessert, Audrey?”

“Please do. Thank you,” 

He left then in the hopes that when he returned the situation might have resolved itself. The dessert table was woefully absent of pie, much to his chagrin, despite the fact that he’d anticipated it. Events that he’d been to of a similar nature had also been lacking in his favourite dessert. Instead, he brought back two slices of cherry topped cheesecake. 

He found the table had returned to seating only it’s original occupants. 

“Claire saw another friend,” Audrey stated by way of explanation.

Dale set the cheesecake down in front of her. “They were short on pie, so I brought you the next best thing,” 

Audrey laughed at that, a real, genuine laugh and it warmed his heart to hear her so carefree. 

“We’ll have to file a complaint,” She teased back. The cheesecake disappeared quickly, and Dale followed it with the last swills of his coffee. He looked out across the crowd, eating, drinking, laughing. It was a pleasant feeling, being part of crowd but also apart from it. He glanced at Audrey, washing down her own cheesecake with some water, and felt the impulse to - 

“Dance with me, Audrey?” 

When she looked up at him, eyes large and beautifully blue, he felt the same surge in his heart as when he’d first read her letter. She blushed, though he almost missed it in the low lighting of the room, and blinked her soft lashes. 

“I’d love to,” She took in a deep breath immediately afterward. He took note of it for later, stood and offered her his hand. Audrey took it in her own, her hand steady despite what he’d earlier taken for nerves. Nerves that he too, was still feeling. A jazzy number had just begun as he led her out to the dance floor where they joined the other swaying couples. He recalled the last time that they had danced together. It had been Dougie Milford’s wedding, held at the Great Northern. She’d smiled at him, exuberant, blissful, easy in her humour. Before things had begun to derail.  Just as then, her left hand rested on his shoulder, her right clasped in his as he guided them to the rhythm of the music. The feel of her satin gown where his hand rested on her waist was divine and he internally chided himself against the thoughts that rushed through him. 

Thoughts of how her eyes sparkled as she caught his gaze, her lips widening into that impossibly sweet smile. Her expressions had always been open to him; she’d never hidden her feelings, even after their discussion about the differences between ‘needs’ and ‘wants’ where he’d come closer to confessing his mutual regard than deterring her from her relentless pursuit. 

“Where will this dance take us, Special Agent?” Audrey asked in a low voice, pulling Dale from his thoughts into stunned silence. She, undoubtedly, was also reliving those moments from the past year. 

Unable to help himself, Dale smiled warmly back at her. 

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we Audrey?”

There was that deep intake of breath again and suddenly she was closer to him than before and her head was resting just below his shoulder and he was overwhelmed, unable to stop dancing, unable to comprehend her courage, unable to firmly grasp his own. 

The dance continued for several more minutes as the band devolved to an instrumental interlude before concluding the song. Reluctantly, Dale brought them to a halt and felt her move from him, though her hand still rested on his shoulder, the other grasped loosely in his still, though moment by moment they were pulling further apart. Before her fingers could slide from his he lifted them to his lips and kissed her hand. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” He said softly. 

Hand in hand they walked off the dance floor and back through the crowd. They stopped only briefly at the table to retrieve her shawl and clutch. He draped the silky fabric over her shoulders from behind and, taking her hand once more, they weaved their way effortlessly through the crowd. 

Night had fallen completely during the dinner, and stars spotted the velvet of the sky like the diamond earring that shone through Audrey’s hair. He let her guide them through the courtyard and down an empty road dotted with streetlights that cast a warm glow over her features. She was pressed close into his side and the contentment that she radiated was nicer than the sun on a breezy day. For a long time they walked on in tender silence. Then, Audrey sighed, not tired but satisfied. 

“Dale,” She said his name wistfully, as if he weren’t present at all. “Earlier, I wanted to say something. You mentioned when I read to you in the hospital,” 

“Emerson. Yes,” He replied. They were still strolling, to where he didn’t know but he trusted Audrey implicitly. 

“I’ve thought about you a lot too. I was worried about you after you left. I wanted to be sure that you would be safe, taken care of,” She tightened her arm around his. “I wanted you to know that I cared,”

“I always knew you cared, Audrey. You never let me forget it. And for that, I’m grateful, even if I wasn’t always worthy of it,”

“Oh Dale,” She swung away from his side to stand in front of him, stopping their progress. “You were always worth it to me,” She held both his hands in hers, earnest gaze pleading up at him to believe her. He attempted to smile at her but the effort gave way to his own doubts. 

They kept walking, after Audrey tucked herself back into his side. In the distance, sparkling in the spotlights, was a spectacular fountain. He closed his eyes as they neared it, rallying his courage. it was his turn to stop them, to take her hand in his. The crystalline spray of water caught the light behind Audrey, backing her with thousands of gem-drops against the night and Mount Rainer in the distance. He looked her in the eyes, and spoke. 

“No man ever forgot the visitations of that power to his heart and brain, which created all things new; which was the dawn in him of music, poetry, and art; which made the face of nature radiant with purple light, the morning and the night varied enchantments; when a single tone of one voice could make the heart bound, and the most trivial circumstance associated with one form is put in the amber of memory; when he became all eye when one was present, and all memory when one was gone,” 

Tears clung to Audrey’s lashes, beaded at the corner of her eye. “Oh Dale,” She said again, this time both tenderly and elatedly, managing to convey her exact emotions without varying the words. 

“Emerson’s Essay on Love,” He added quietly, his thumb brushing back and forth at the skin of her hand before she slid them from his grasp and put them up to his face. She caressed his cheeks stood just slightly on tiptoe and drew him to her. 

The kiss was little more than a press of her lips to his in gentle meeting. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his embrace fully as they continued to kiss in that same chaste manner. His hands found her hair, soft as he’d imagined. She was pressed bodily against him, their legs twining, the swell of her breasts against his chest, the pads of her fingers at the back of his neck. 

When they parted, just slightly, and looked at each other through half lidded eyes, dark with longing, he pressed his forehead to hers for a moment and then lifted his head to press a kiss to that selfsame spot and gather her into him. 

“I love you,” He murmured into her hair. “I always loved you,” 

“And I never stopped,” 

He looked down at her again, purposeful and the next kiss was more passionate than the first, filled with desire, and all the pent up hopes of that past year. Above them, the moon shone brightly, baptizing the water below in it’s soft glow as Dale and Audrey held one another close. 

 


End file.
